


So Far (It's Alright)

by blueeyedmonster



Category: The 1975 (Band)
Genre: Coming Out, F/M, M/M, iliwysfyasbysuoi, second album
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-02-10
Updated: 2015-02-10
Packaged: 2018-03-11 13:53:48
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,570
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3328775
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blueeyedmonster/pseuds/blueeyedmonster
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"George could feel Mattys hearbeat with the hand he had thrown around him, instinctively dragging his chest closer to Mattys back so they were snuggled together in a warm space. They were just like that, always MattyandGeorge since the first day they‘d met."</p><p>// </p><p>Or: A story about The 1975 writing their second album, George falls in love with Matty, and everything complicates a bit.</p>
            </blockquote>





	So Far (It's Alright)

**Author's Note:**

> So I noticed that there are only 64 Matty/George fanfictions on Ao3 and since they are one of my biggest ships ever I decided to write a fanfiction about them. Side Larry/Ziam implied.  
> Edit: I started this one year ago and it has been on hiatus ever since. I'm now going to continue it, but with a few changes (the debut album is now the new album, because I realized that they have probably already written the songs to the first one ages ago and I really did not want to go back there due to plot reasons).  
> I also apologize for any mistakes in their timeline, unfortunately I do not know what the 1975 is doing at any moment. I still try, though.  
> To know at last, english is not my first language, so if you find any mistakes and/or phrases that don't sound very british or 1975-ish, please feel free to call me out on it. I believe one can never watch enough interviews of them to completely adapt to the ridiculous way they talk.  
> Enough of the chit chat, I hope you enjoy this one :)

The smell of the raisins travelled through the air and awoke George Daniel from his peaceful and silent sleep.

At first he couldn‘t quite figure out why on earth he would be smelling raisins in the middle of the night, but as he turned around to find the other side of the bed completely empty, he had to remind himself that he chose himself to live with an insomniac and that he probably was in no position to complain. Even if it fucked with his sleeping schedule after the longest day of promoting, talking, travelling, in the middle of the night.

Slowly he shifted his head on the pillow to look at the clock on his nightstand, letting out a frustrated moan when he saw that it was in fact 3:17am. He softly rubbed the sleep out of his eyes, considering if he should stand up and look after his idiot friend or just go back to sleep and let him deal with it himself, which seemed nice after the small amount of sleep he‘d gotten so far.

Suddenly there was a loud noise coming from the kitchen, startling George and making him hit his hand on the nightstand. He cursed and sat up in his bed, the covers sliding down his chest and pooling at his hips. There was no way he could go back to sleep now, he was one of the people who found it very hard to fall asleep and couldn‘t be woken up unless you wanted to end up getting killed. It was difficult when he lived with Matty because the boy just couldn‘t shut up at night, he would wake him up at 2am because he wanted to know why the stars shined, or why tomatoes were red, or he would sit at the table and hit the keys of his his typewriter so hard he‘d wake George up, apologizing over and over how he didn‘t want to interrupt his sleep and how he‘d gotten a brilliant idea that he just had to write down.

After the fourth night of waking up to the sound of Mattys typewriter, George bought him a scrapbook, a black one with empty pages, and since then his sleep never got disturbed again; at least not by work stuff. He still woke him up to ask questions, though, or just by standing up and knocking something over, really, he was so clumsy sometimes.

Now, apparently, was one of those nights; and wow, George loved him, he did, but he was just so tired and he really didn‘t want to deal with a vibrant Matty right now who probably wouldn‘t go to sleep until he hadn‘t told George about another one of his brilliant ideas.

Still, he stood up and ran a hand through his hair, feeling his spine crack painfully as he stretched his muscles, tapping barefoot into the kitchen.

Matty was sitting on the floor, scrapbook on his lap and a pencil in his hand. There was a bowl of... something in the oven, which George guessed to be the raisins he could smell stronger now.

„Matty“ he rasped, massaging his neck with one hand.

„Oh my- fuck you scared me!“ he shot back startled, quickly closing his book shut. His hair was done up in a bun, one of Georges secret favourite hairstyles on him, and he was wearing his light blue flannel with a pair of grey sweatpants.

„Sorry“ he sighed, sitting down beside him on the kitchen floor. „What are you doing?“

„Em, hot raisins“ he said a little bit too quick, focusing on the oven where the raisins heated up. George nodded, his gaze fell on the scrapbook in Mattys hands where he could see the pencil marking one of the pages.

„Okay. Are you writing?“

Matty opened his mouth to speak, then closed it again, fingers tightening around his book. George waited. He knew that if you kept asking or if your questions were too intrusive or harsh, he‘d snap and close up and you wouldn‘t ever hear of the conversation again. He was a very sensitive soul and had to be treated extremely carefully, a fact that George had to learn the hard way, like the rest of the band and basically everyone who was close to Matty.

„Yeah. Can‘t really concentrate though. I made the raisins to get a few vitamins, maybe they‘ll get me to form proper sentences.“ His fingers traced the outline of the words imprinted on the cover, sometimes stopping to do a letter again because Matty was such a perfectionist it was nearly ridiculous. George didn‘t really know why he even noticed these things.

„You want someone to look over it?“ George asked, his voice soft and with as little pressure he could possibly do. He didn‘t want Matty to feel like he had to show him or anything, really, it was just something they did sometimes when Matty got stuck in his own words and needed someone to see the situation through from a kinda neutral perspective.

Matty bit his lip, moving his hand to scratch at his neck. George could tell he was being more than private about whatever idea he‘d hidden.

„Yeah. If you want to.“, he mumbled, and god, George would always want to look over Mattys notes, no matter how fucked up or ridiculous (actually, Mattys notes were never ridiculous, he was a genius at work) they were. He let out a small chuckle, just innocent enough that it couldn‘t mean anything else than actual and honest affection, again, he didn‘t want to creep him out by sounding ungrateful or demanding.

„Well hand it over then, Matthew“ he answered and slightly ruffled Mattys hair, extremely pleased with himself when he saw a smile creep over his face. Slowly he got handed the book, and, wow. After all those years with Matty it still felt like a huge honour to know that he trusted him with something obviously so important, so precious. Matty let close to nobody take a look in his book, the only exceptions being his girlfriend Gemma, his brother Louis, and, well, George, his best friend.

He opened the book and immediately smiled a bit at the messy handwriting. He knew that Matty tended to rant or get really chaos-y when he was excited and his songs were just such a good display of his own complex personality sometimes. As he started reading, he could feel Matty shift his knee against his, softly laying his head down on George‘s shoulder.

 

 

I like it when you sleep, for you are so beautiful - yet so unaware of it

I like it when you sleep, for I can go outside alone amongst the due and feel at last and one with you

I like it when you sleep, for it is where the worries meet with all desires complex and small that materialise upon your wall

I like it when you sleep, for smoking is great and I do a lot more without you awake

I like it when you sleep, for the things missed too and to know I'm alive longer than you

I like it when you sleep, for the infinite sadness of London and loss and the fold out mattress

I like it when you sleep, for the reasons I can't so I jealously squirm and count moles on your arm

I like it when you sleep, forgive me my dear for all the cocaine has imprisoned me here

 

He liked it when Matty did that, it made him feel like they had some kind of unbreakable bond, like an invisible connection that you couldn‘t see. Sort of a best-friends-for-10-years bond, that came with all the shit they‘d been going through together. He liked it, how it wasn‘t anything special, it was actually just Matty resting his head on his shoulder, but it just felt like something he wouldn‘t do with any of the other boys, or his friends.

 

I like it when you sleep, for I'm guilty of work and match of the day and the girls that twerk

I like it when you sleep, for my return after weeks is an incomplete feeling when you are not dreaming

I like it when you sleep, for during the day your breath lacks character

I like it when you sleep, for I swear I'll protect her from the wheedling, redolent, saccharine nectar

I like it when you sleep, for there are cracks in my cealing that I know like the back of my heart -

and to learn of your body in half of that manner was something desired from the start

I like it when you sleep, forbidden I sit in my chair for a bit

I like it when you sleep, for you are so beautiful - yet so unaware of it

 

„Wow“ George said finally, just because he didn‘t know what else to say, and also because he adored the pieces Matty wrote and he would probably be arse over tits for them even if Matty created them when stone high and wasted (in which, the songs he did create stone high and wasted were actually the best George had ever read, so).

He did have some concerns, after all he knew the person Matty had probably written this for, and the lyrics contained some questionable thoughts, but he would most certainly not ask him about it, not when he trusted him enough to let him read the lines in the first place.

„This is pretty good. Sad, but good. Very deep.“

Matty nodded and closed the book again, laying his hand over George‘s. „It‘s for Gemma. I don‘t really know what it means, but.. it‘s about her. I guess.“ Matty never really knew what his songs meant, but in the end they were great and he loved them himself, so George guessed it would be okay.

„It‘s good. Really good. You gonna put it on the list?“ They, being everyone in the band who writes, had created a non-existent list for songs that they wanted on their second album, but 90% of the songs were filled by Matty alone since he was their main writer and also by far the one with the best ideas. Once, they‘d tried to write a song about cigarettes and had failed royally at the attempt. That was, until Matty came and suddenly it sounded all eloquent and not at all like cigarettes anymore. It turned out that the song wasn‘t even about cigarettes after all anymore when Matty was finished with it, but nobody really seemed to mind.

Matty shrugged and stood up, turning off the oven. „I don‘t know. Maybe. Don‘t really have the whole melody yet, but maybe if I get a good idea and like it, then yes.“ George just nodded and let his head fall back against the hard wood, closing his eyes. He was still really, really tired, and the lack of sleep was raging in his bones and muscles.

„It‘s- I don‘t know. You know? That doesn‘t make sense but I hope you get it anyways. It‘s when there‘s a feeling inside you and you can‘t form it into words and then you end up writing something completely ridiculous that doesn‘t even match you actual idea at all. Do you want raisins?“

George opened his eyes and saw Matty kneeling beside him again, a bowl of hot raisins in his hand. It really was pathetic sometimes, how attached George was to him, even if he woke him up at 3am to tell him a story George already knew.

„Your songs are never ridiculous.“, he said with a scratchy voice, taking a few of the raisins and shoving them in his mouth. Matty rolled his eyes.

„Yes George I know, but, don‘t you get what I‘m trying to say.“ He gave Matty a disbelieving look.

„Man, that‘s basically how you write every single one of your songs. You always complain about how it‘s not at all what you wanted to do in the first place and then it gets good anyways.“ This was stupid, he just wanted to sleep again.

„Hm.“ Matty said and focused on the raisins, probably already somewhere else in his mind. Suddenly he looked up again and asked: „Do you want to watch a film with me?“

Oh my god. Sometimes George couldn‘t believe this was his life. „Matty.“ he sighed, pushing himself up so he could sit a bit straighter.

„What?“

Again, this was stupid. „I‘m fucking tired because I got like, 4 hours of sleep last night and you know how I am, and you wake me up at 3am because you want to make hot raisins, and, don‘t get me wrong Matty, I just want to catch some bloody sleep, and you should too actually.“ He rubbed his hands over his face, looking at his friend with sleepy eyes.

„Oh. Sorry. I didn‘t want to keep you up.“ That actually made George laugh a little, because really. That was just so typical.

„It‘s alright. I like accompanying you at night and all, but please let‘s just go back to bed now you‘ve got your song and your food.“

Matty smiled and nodded, quickly eating the rest of the raisins before he stood up and pulled George up with him. He wasn‘t prepared for the quick motion though, so he stumbled a bit into Matty and they both fell back against the wall.

„Ugh“ George said and laughed, rubbing his head. „Warn me next time you wanker.“

Matty flipped him off over his head and opened the door, already on his way to the bedroom. George turned off the lights and followed him, a bit confused when he saw Matty taking off his flannel and throwing it on the floor.

„I thought you wanted to watch a movie?“ he asked, climbing into the bed and shrugging off his sweatpants. Matty slid under the covers next to him and did the same, shaking his head.

„Don‘t wanna, not alone. Also you‘re right, I should get some sleep after all.“ George smiled and turned on his side, happy he could convince him to sleep.“

„Yeah. Good choice. Come here.“ He opened his arms and raised his eyebrows, causing Matty to make an annoyed sound, but he still shuffled back into George‘s arms and let him wrap his arms around the warm body beside him. It was nice, and they did it sometimes, just because the two of them were touchy persons and liked to hold onto something during sleep.

George could feel Mattys hearbeat with the hand he had thrown around him, instinctively dragging his chest closer to Mattys back so they were snuggled together in a warm space. Since they both liked to sleep just in their boxers, it was kind of necessary to make sure they got enough body warmth and didn‘t turn cold at night, so none of them had ever thought anything of it. They were just like that, always MattyandGeorge since the first day they‘d met.

He nuzzled his nose into Mattys neck hair and inhaled deeply, content that he could finally catch some more sleep.

„George?" Matty asked into the darkness, tangling their legs together.

"Yes, Matthew?" he answered and slid his left hand into Matty's soft curls.

„Why am I always the little spoon?“

George sighed. „Shut the fuck up and sleep, you bloody menace.“

* * *

**Author's Note:**

> so that's.. that. the thought of Matty and George in one bed makes me want to drown myself in a pool of my tears.


End file.
